


"I Love You"

by peteor



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Past Relationship(s), Unspecified Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 02:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peteor/pseuds/peteor
Summary: People say that those three words are everything, but Church thinks the everything in them is how they’re said:The way Tucker said it was slurred, with warm skin and loose limbs.The way Carolina said it was quiet, lost, and unsure, with tense shoulders and tight lips.The way Tex said it was tired and flat, with slumped shoulders and empty eyes, as if the words drained the life from her.The way Washington says it is unforgettable.--the fic where church realizes why "i love you" is such a big deal





	"I Love You"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [churchwash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchwash/gifts).



> could i come up with a better title? absolutely
> 
> will i? no, because it's 4am and i'm a clinically diagnosed crazy person going through a huge bout of post-fever hypomania and just coming up with the words to write this almost killed me
> 
> anyway the world as you know it isn't real, we're all gonna die painful deaths when the nukes get dropped, but until then, i'm gonna marathon achievement hunter's trivial pursuit series
> 
> enjoy the fic and tell someone you love them today

“I love you.”

People say that those three words are everything, but Church thinks the everything in them is how they’re said. Because it’s easy to say things without meaning them. Church himself is no stranger to that. People get drunk, people aren’t sure, people feel trapped, people aren’t perfect. And neither are their words.

Church has been told “I love you” by three people before now.

—

The first person was Tucker. And the way he said it was slurred, with warm skin and loose limbs. Church remembers the bar, the moment Tucker slung his arm around Church’s shoulders, pulled him close, pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, and yelled, “I fucking _love you_ , dude!”

Church five years before that moment at the bar would have been both hopeful and heartbroken. But Church at the time just laughed, raised his drink, and replied, “Love you too, buddy.”

Tucker’s three words were said with drunken optimism and carelessness. They were shallow and ridiculous, said in a second and forgotten the next. They fit Tucker; fleeting and energetic. A rollercoaster put into words.

Tucker loves Church. Church loves Tucker. Those are two facts that don’t need to be confirmed by three words, so the moment at the bar was essentially meaningless. A good memory, yes, but a memory left in the back of Church’s mind, and probably cast out of Tucker’s mind entirely.

A memory that, at the end of the day, isn’t anything life-changing.

—

The second person was Carolina. And the way she said it was quiet, lost, and unsure. With tense shoulders and tight lips. White knuckles wrapped around a paper coffee cup, fingertips pressing hard enough to make the cup indent beneath them. Chin up, but eyes down, the closest Carolina’s expression will ever get to shame.

“I love you, Leo.”

The words came heavy through her lips, sliding just under the bar of believability. And Church knew at least a part of her meant what she said, because she’s not the type to say things just for the sake of saying them.

And Church knew the part of her that didn’t mean it _wanted_ to mean it. But there was too much hesitance tucked between the syllables, too much history behind her eyes.

Church ten years before that moment at the coffee shop would have been angry and shattered. But Church at the time just shook his head, stood up, and forced himself to reply, “Love you too, sis.”

He knew there was history behind his eyes, and he knew the words were said through gritted teeth and trembling lips. He knew he was tense, because he’s not the type to say things just for the sake of saying them, either. They get that from their father.

But Church also knew he needed to say it back, then, and they both need to keep saying it, now. Over and over, until their voices grow strong and sure.

Because someday, if they keep saying it enough, they might just mean it.

—

The third person was Texas. And the way she said it was tired and flat, with slumped shoulders and empty eyes, as if the words drained the life from her.

“I love you, you know. Always will.”

From the mere seconds after, as she pulled off the curb and disappeared, to years down the road, Church was empty.

She’d never said it before, and she’d never say it again. The moment was as fleeting as any other, but it stuck in Church’s brain for a long time, only temporarily dislodged by self-destructive distractions. She said it like it was the final sentence of a thousand-page novel, and Church spent years dreaming of a sequel.

A sequel where he gets to say “I love you too” before being left in a cloud of dust. A sequel where his heart doesn’t reach so far for her that it snaps itself in half in its desperation.

A sequel where she comes back and tells him why she said it, when she said it, the way she said it. Because to this day, Church doesn’t have an answer.

But eventually, the memory fades, and Church realizes he doesn’t need one.

—

The way Washington says it is unforgettable.

“I love you.”

There’s terror in his trembling tone, but there’s passion in the way his voice cracks. There’s confidence in his eyes as they meet Church’s, blazing gold in the light of the setting sun. There’s vulnerability in the way he cups Church’s face with both hands and forces his lips to form around each powerful word he knows he can’t take back.

There’s depth in the words. In the way Church feels them vibrate through his fingertips, through Wash’s chest. In the way they settle on Church’s shoulders like a comforting touch. In the way they feel like relief in Church’s mind. In the way they shoot electricity down his spine.

Church has been told “I love you” by three people before now.

But Church before Washington wouldn’t have been able to comprehend what it feels like to hear those words and believe them wholeheartedly. And they say actions speak louder than words, so Church wraps his arms around Wash’s neck and crashes his mouth against Wash’s as if the world will end if he doesn’t taste his lips.

There are odd shadows dancing across Wash’s face when they part, as the last half of the sun withers away behind the cityscape. But his eyes are still shining, deep brown with flecks of gold shimmering behind unshed tears. And his face is still soft, warm to the touch as Church pulls a hand back and trails his fingers lightly along Wash’s cheekbone, down to his scruffy jawline, down his neck, to rest on his shoulder.

They stand like that for a while. In silence. They’re both okay with that, because they both know they love each other, now. In fact… they’ve both known it for a while.

So they stand like that, in silence. Wash’s hands on Church’s hips, Church’s arms around Wash’s neck, smiling at each other. They stand like that until the last tendrils of sun disappear from sight, and the first rush of cold night wind moves in.

And then Church moves, falling against Wash’s chest, wrapping his arms around Wash’s waist.

“I love you too,” he says, and he makes sure to put everything he has into those words. Every ounce of passion, so Wash knows that he’s not lying. “I love you so much.”

Wash says, immediately, “Oh, thank god.”

Church snorts.

Then they both start laughing.

—

The words “I love you,” Church learns, are not everything. They barely even scrape the surface. They’re nothing more than the first line of the novel Church and Wash will write together. Hell, not even the first line of the _novel_. “I love you” is the first line of the _prologue_ , at best.

The prologue ends with post-sex cigarettes, and chapter one begins with brunch at IHOP. Each chapter contains at least one phrase that’s more significant than “I love you.” And throughout the novel, as they fill thousands and thousands of pages together, “I love you” is said so much that it begins to lose its luster.

But that’s okay. After all, Church has been told “I love you” by four people in his life, but only Wash says it in a way that never gets old.


End file.
